


that's gonna leave a mark...

by sideoftea (orphan_account)



Series: DimiClaude Week 2020 [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Claumitri, Dialogue Heavy, DimiClaudeWeek2020, Healing, M/M, POV Third Person, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Scars, dimiclaude, prompt, the battle of eagle and lion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22135555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sideoftea
Summary: It's the annual Battle of the Eagle and Lion. This year's match has been whittled down to just a few representatives from either the Blue Lions or the Golden Deer. Now in a standoff with Dimitri, Claude crafts a new scheme, but it doesn't go entirely as planned.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: DimiClaude Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589980
Comments: 8
Kudos: 78





	that's gonna leave a mark...

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 4 of DimiClaude Week 2020!
> 
> Prompt: Scars/Healing
> 
> Rated Teen - light violence, light description of injury

“So it’s come to this, your royalness.”

“So it has.”

The house leaders stood at odds. The Black Eagles had already been forced to surrender, much to Edelgard’s annoyance. Now, all that remained were the shrinking, yet evenly-matched forces of the Blue Lions and the Golden Deer. Dimitri, feeling his army’s morale reach the moon, had just charged into the thickets that lined the eastern edge of Gronder Field, with the remaining battalions led by Ingrid, Felix, and Mercedes close behind. Directly under his feet, a training arrow sank into the muddy ground, fired by the deft hands of the mysterious heir to the Leicester Alliance. 

“Better watch out, Dimitri! Next one won’t be a warning shot.”

“Claude! When did you learn to climb trees?!”

“Let’s just say Petra here gave me a few pointers,” Claude informed, tilting his head to a neighboring tree on his right. There crouched the Princess of Brigid, having transferred into Claude’s class a couple moons prior. She was shooting off a volley of arrows towards Ingrid, who was flying above the treetops, attempting to keep her from ambushing them.

“I’d advise you to come down and fight me face-to-face.”

“And where’s the fun in that?!”

“It has nothing to do with fun. This is about honor!”

“Nah, the Golden Deer play by our own rules.”

“Then I’m afraid I will have to take matters into my own hands.”

Dimitri charged again, knocking away a couple younger students that guarded the tree with ease, and, mustering a great amount of strength, whacked the tree with his training lance, causing it to shake violently from the shock.

“Wha-?! Hey! No crests!” Claude whined, almost falling to the ground like a stone from being caught off-balance.

“If I recall, you have one as well.” Dimitri struck the tree again. Claude, unwilling to press his luck, jumped to a rope that he had originally tied behind the trunk to ascend it, lowering himself to the ground quickly.

“Impressive,” Dimitri grinned, swinging his lance towards Claude who moved just out of reach.

“Always good to have a backup plan.” Claude quickly fired a couple more arrows, which Dimitri managed to knock away with his shield. Not wanting the prince to get near him, understanding he would lose in a close-combat scenario, Claude bolted towards a deeper mass of thickets, letting out a sharp, signaling whistle. Previously hidden behind a nearby boulder, Leonie jumped towards Dimitri, their lances colliding with a deafening smack. 

They exchanged a couple more blows before Dimitri nodded at her in a show of sportsmanship. “You’ve grown very much, Leonie. I must say your methods are…”

“Unconventional?” Leonie finished, quirking an eyebrow at the prince.

“A brilliant showcase of mercenary techniques.”

“I appreciate that your highness, but let’s save the compliments for after the fight, shall we?” The two fought, Leonie very much holding her own but steadily losing energy. Her ability to contain Dimitri didn’t last long however, as Felix caught up to lend his support. He landed a vital hit on Leonie’s side, effectively subduing her.

“Gah! I think that’s it for me. I held them back as long as I could. You got this Deer!” Leonie shouted towards her teammates before heaving herself off the battlefield.

“Well done, Felix! You have my gratitude.”

“Hmph. Will I always have to clean up your messes, boar?”

“N-no- I just- argh! Must you always be so difficult?”

“Must _you_ be so weak?”

Dimitri didn’t have time to react, being forced to duck out of the way of a fireball that hurtled towards them at alarming speed. 

“Are you nitwits going to keep bickering, or are you going to fight?” challenged Lysithea, a mesmerizing pattern of lights dancing around her hands as she conjured spells with refined technique.

“Finally someone’s making sense around here,” Felix scoffed, charging towards the mage without hesitation. Dimitri merely groaned, knowing that it was fruitless to try to get him to listen. He glanced at Felix and Lysithea circling each other like wolves ready to pounce before turning his attention in the direction Claude had fled. He caught sight of the archer and a few of his troops running north.

“This way! We can not allow Claude time to set-up any more traps!” Dimitri commanded his own battalion, now hot on Claude’s trail. He managed to briefly lock eyes with Ingrid, observing that she had managed to defeat Petra, and motioned her to curve towards the river in an effort to cut off Claude’s escape. Mercedes and her team of monks followed closely behind, rhythmically casting ranged healing spells in an effort to keep Dimitri’s numbers strong. 

Claude and his group were quite elusive, but Dimitri knew they could not run forever, as it was only a matter of time until Claude ran out of options. The number of remaining Blue Lions would surely be enough to overwhelm the rival house, ensuring their victory. 

Upon reaching a small clearing, Dimitri looked around in a panic as he lost track of his opponents. Ingrid, with her fellow pegasus knights, flew down from the other side of the treeline, equally confused.

“Where did they go?!”

“Be on your guard!” 

The Blue Lions quickly formed a circle of defense, attempting to keep their eyes glued to every direction. Dimitri heard a commotion in the thickets his forces had just passed through, realizing their healers were still straggling behind. He heard Mercedes let out conflicting squeals of terror and delight, informing him the Blue Lions’ numbers just dwindled further. Emerging from the thickets were a slew of Golden Deer warriors under the command of a certain bubbly, self-perscribed delicate flower.

“What’s wrong, Dimitri? Cat got your tongue? I mean, I know I’m adorable, but really?” Hilda chided. Shaking off their surprise, the remaining Blue Lions uttered a war cry before charging in her direction. The warriors stood their ground, tightly gripping their axes, while Dimitri’s ears perked up to the echo of Claude’s voice.

“Marianne, now!”

Suddenly, his team was surrounded by several flashes of blinding white magic that quarantined them like a vortex. Hilda and Claude’s forces descended upon them, making quick work of their incredibly vulnerable state. It did not take long for the Golden Deer to reach Dimitri, and for an opening to present itself. Claude, now atop his wyvern, dove with training axe in hand, landing a crushing blow, square on Dimitri’s chest. The prince teetered backwards, falling hard onto his back. The trumpets roared from above the hill, marking the end of The Battle of Eagle and Lion. Just like that, it was over. The Golden Deer had won. 

Ingrid looked down at the ground, kicking dirt in disappointment. Hilda cheered heartily from the sidelines, lifting Marianne into a celebratory spin. 

“We did it! We actually did it! We won!”

“Y-yes! I-I-g-guess w-we did.” Marianne sputtered, her voice breaking up from being jostled around. Claude chuckled at them, feeling great pride for his house, as he lowered himself towards Dimitri, reaching out a hand to help him to his feet.

“Hey. Great match.”

“Yes Claude… you too…” Dimitri grunted from the ground. His hand clasped onto Claude’s and he began to rise for a moment, only to violently fall back to the ground with a sickening gasp. His gloved hand pressed against a tingling, burning sensation residing over the spot where Claude’s axe had bludgeoned him. 

“Dimitri?!” Claude fell briskly to his side, helping him strip away the armor that covered his chest in order to get a better look at the wound. A long gash traveled from the base of Dimitiri’s neck and cut diagonally across his sternum. The opening was stained maroon, the skin around it bruised black and purple, like colors melting off an awful painting. The sight of it made Claude’s stomach churn. 

“H-Hilda… Hilda! Go get help!” It didn’t take long for Hilda to process what was going on. She halted her celebration, and bolted, alongside Ingrid, towards the hill where the spectators and the professors had been watching the event. Marianne jogged nervously to the house leaders, fumbling to produce some healing magic with the bit of juice she had left.

Dimitri felt himself balancing precariously on the line of consciousness, the support of Claude’s hand holding the back of his head keeping him from slipping under. He did not feel pain, at least not yet, but rather an immense numbing. Although, one look at Claude, whose face was uncharacteristically iced with fear, was enough to convince him it was bad.

Marianne casted her glowing hands over the wound, but the incision was too deep to make meaningful change with the more basic level of magic she could do. However, to both her and Claude’s relief, it at least managed to stop the bleeding.

“I’m sorry! I don’t... I don’t know what more I can do…”

“Stay with me Dimitri. You gotta stay awake.” Claude lightly slapped Dimitri’s cheek in an effort to keep his attention, but the prince was only able to respond with groans. Claude felt his eyes sting as he choked down pangs of guilt. He held Dimitri as still as possible, knowing any abrupt movement could be detrimental. 

Hilda and Ingrid returned, with Byleth, Manuela, and Seteth sprinting behind them. A large crowd of concerned students steadily formed in a circle around the spectacle, taking care to respect their distance. A panicked Marianne started frantically apologizing to Byleth, who did their best to console her, ensuring that she did everything she could have. Manuela bent down next to Claude, fortunately prepared for this exact situation, as under her cloak was an assortment of vials and medications. 

“Professor Manuela! I-I don’t know what happened! I-”

“It will be alright, Claude. Please, I need space to work.”

“Let me help. This was my fault, so I should-” 

Manuela silenced him but placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “You’ve done enough.”

Claude reluctantly and gently handed Dimitri off to the physician, watching her efficiently pouring liquid from select vials over the wound with one hand and casting advanced white magic with the other. He felt the hand of Hilda envelop his arm, silent, but reassuring, as she began to walk him back towards the edge of the crowd. They only made a bit of progress before Claude was turned around sharply to an expression of fury.

“What did you do?!” Seteth barked in his face.

“I didn’t mean-”

“Were you using real weapons? Was that another one of your little tactics?!”

“Of course I wasn’t, Seteth! I wouldn’t actually try to hurt anyone!”  
“Why should I believe you?”

“Honest, Seteth!” Hilda intervened, “Claude only had a training axe. We can all vouch for him. I promise Dimitri will say the same thing.”

“Well we won’t know unless he makes it, now will we?”

Claude made a mental vow that Seteth was the last person he would ever allow to break him, thus, he turned away angrily, and began to storm off, Hilda trailing desperately behind.

“Lord Riegan! You turn back around this instant!” 

Seteth felt the calm hand of Rhea lingering on his shoulder. “Calm yourself, Seteth. Let the boy be for now. I’m sure he feels awful enough.”

“But-”

“That’s an order.” 

Seteth let out a frustrated sigh, submitting to her authority, grumbling something about Rhea becoming too soft. A decent number of nearby students watched Claude and Hilda walk away. A chorus of murmurs rang about the crowd, each bystander trying to piece the story together. The students, particularly the Blue Lions, waited anxiously as Manuela and a couple of her assistants worked tirelessly over Dimitri. 

All was still for what felt like hours, with only the sound of the breeze wafting through blades of grass. And then a wheeze, a cough, and finally the sound of a voice croaking back to life. 

“Uhnn… Manuela…?”

The physician let out a visible sigh as the crowd fell into a mixture of relieved gasps and gentle laughter. Annette, eyes wet with tears, cupped her hands over her mouth as Sylvain warmly slung one arm around her shoulders. “See? I knew he’d be alright.”

“Thank the goddess,” Ingrid said to herself, rubbing her temples from a fit of stress. Dedue bowed towards the physicians, expressing his immense gratitude for saving his highness. The Golden Deer shifted uncomfortably, their victory now feeling bitter, as they gazed in the direction Claude headed, longing to return home and make sure their house leader was alright. Seteth and Rhea did their best to gather the crowd together, declaring that matters had been taken care of and everyone should return to the monastery, where they would have the rest of the evening off. Slowly, the ensemble of students, faculty, and spectators ambled towards the edge of the field, to make the journey home with their mounts in tow, and Dimitri being carried by a few of the knights. 

Mercedes, look around over her shoulder, detecting something amiss. “Wait. Where is Felix?”

“Lysithea is missing too,” Ignatz timidly added.

“Um…” Ashe muttered, jerking his thumb towards the missing students. They were off in the distance, still circling each other in a flurry of fireballs and sword slashes, totally oblivious to the fact that the mock battle had ended.

“Hey!” Raphael projected, “You guys can stop now! Fight’s over!”

“OH, COME ON!!”

\- - - - -

The autumnal sun began to dip below the horizon, its glare illuminating the faces of the monastery’s cooks buzzing around the kitchen in an effort to finish a traditional post-battle feast that would hopefully lift everyone’s spirits. Returning students milled about the common areas, avidly sharing their experiences from the day on their way to the dormitories and washrooms to clean up. Dimitri, alongside a few other students with more minor injuries, were ushered straight to the infirmary.

While others indulged in their rare free time, Claude and Hilda remained waiting, leaning against the walls in the hallway outside Manuela’s office. Hilda glanced at her friend, noticing Claude covering his mouth with the space between his thumb and index finger, something he did when processing a situation or analyzing a textbook. She silently delivered a smile, knowing it was best to leave Claude with his thoughts. He returned it, his easy-going expression was rather convincing, but Hilda could sense the discomfort underneath. It wouldn’t matter how much Hilda tried to say it wasn’t his fault, Claude would not believe her. Although it was unintentional, he hurt one of the people he cared for the most, someone he cared for more than he’d like to admit.

Manuela peeked her head around the corner of the doorframe. “Dimitri’s feeling right as rain. Your old professor’s still got it.” 

She waved them in, Hilda entered first, her head lowered in sympathy. Claude followed, hand apprehensively rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hi Dimitri… you’re um… still looking handsome as ever,” Hilda began. 

“No need for flattery. I am not angry,” Dimitri responded with a dry chuckle, his voice slightly hoarse, “I harbor no resentment towards any of you.”

“Oh thank goodness. I was afraid I’d have to do a lot more to make it up to you.”

“I could use a glass of water.”

“Ugh. Okay fine. Just this once,” Hilda taunted, half-teasing.

“Hello, Claude.”

“Uh. Hey! Your highness. I, gosh, sorry for going overboard…”

“It is perfectly alright. I’m quite impressed. Your strategy was quite impeccable. And, I admit, I didn’t know you could pack such a punch!”

“I… honestly didn’t either.”

“Surely you did! Or for once did something not go to plan for our dear old Claude?” Claude relaxed a bit, Dimitri’s sudden willingness to joke around melting away the swell of shame building in his chest.

“Guess you have no choice but to take me seriously from now on.”

“I’ve always taken you seriously. You know that.” He didn’t, but he nodded anyway, taking care to sit on the edge of the infirmary bed. 

“If there’s anything else you need, please don’t hesitate to ask Claude,” Hilda said, handing Dimitri the glass of water. Dimitri laughed again, while Claude just rolled his eyes. She paraded out of the room, promising to save them some leftovers from the feast. With the other students being taken care of and sent on their way, Manuela proceeded to follow her to the dining hall.

“You should go too, Claude. I thought you loved feasts?”

“I’ll catch up.”

“I don’t want you to miss out on celebrating a well-earned victory.”

“...”

“You still feel guilty, don’t you?”

“It’s stupid to dwell on it. Everything turned out fine.”

“I suppose I would feel the same if I had done that to you… I too am someone who fails to always understand his own strength.”

“Sounds like you have a few stories,” Claude smirked, elbowing him.

“Unfortunately, yes. I do not feel like discussing them.”

“Now I’m curious!”

“You already put me in the infirmary. Must you torment me as well?” 

“It’s nice seeing you joke around. I like this side of Dimitri.”

“I can have fun when I want to.”

“Really? This is news to me.”

“Perhaps you’ve been rubbing off on me.”

“You’re welcome, in that case. Just don’t get carried away. Edelgard is incredibly smart and you’re incredibly strong. I gotta have something.”

“I think you have plenty.” Dimitri said, slowly sitting himself upright, while Claude brought his legs up onto the bed into a cross-legged position. 

“How’s your wound doing?”

“A lot better than I imagine it was earlier. However, it will certainly leave a scar.”

“Ah! Something to remember me by.”

“Because I needed any help remembering the likes of Claude von Riegan.”

Dimitri’s finger lingered against Claude’s forearm, the slight touch causing his skin to ignite with shivers as the hairs stood on end. He gazed into the prince’s eyes, clear and ambitious, if not a bit distant. Claude’s face slipped from a smirk into a look of intense analysis. The surprise of this shift caused Dimitri to jerk his hand more quickly towards his next intention, and his fingers suddenly curled around Claude’s.

“May I… touch it?” Claude swallowed hard. 

“Wh-what…?”

“Oh! No, not um…! Your wound I mean.”

“...”

“Sorry, that sounds weird.”

“No, please, by all means.”

Dimitri peeled back the collar of his undershirt, creating a window to the injury. Claude, breathing steadily as possible, reached out slowly, finding the destination with the back of his fingers. He gently and therapeutically caressed the sensitive area around it. Dimitri hummed in comfort, taken aback by how Claude’s touch felt more soothing than any of the medicines or spells Manuela had used.

“Damn. I really got you, didn’t I?”

Dimitri snorted, “Yes. You really did.”

\- - - - -

Fire. The smell of a field’s tall grass being charred at record pace. The desperate cries of rage and strained sounds of death combining into a horrendous chorus. But none of these sensations were noticed by Dimitri. He charged forward, making quick work, striking down his enemies before he had a chance to commit their faces to memory. The chaos of three different armies. The moral dilemma of three conflicting ideas for the future. He was indifferent to all this. He cared for nothing outside his one objective. And may the goddess have mercy on the poor souls who stood in his way. 

His troops followed him along down the line of eastern thickets. Spear in hand, ready to strike at any moment, he turned aggressively to the sound of a wyvern’s screech. The enemy would normally just be another inconvenience he would soon dispose of, but the familiar glint of a ring on the rider’s left ear gave him brief pause. 

The scar that ran from his neck diagonally across his sternum burned with agony. He looked upwards into the discouraged face of the one who had caused it no more than five years ago. 

“So it’s come to this, your royalness.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. You are awesome! <3
> 
> Feel free to follow me on Twitter: @PerfectTeatime_


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